I Hate My Boss' Mother
Each week on Sunday I have to face a woman who makes my skin crawl. The chef's mother comes into the restaurant and sits for hours at the bar trying to edge her way into any aspect of her son's business. From her annoying way of preempting the hostess' job of greeting customers, to her audacity of actually inviting herself to sit at random customers tables, she makes me want to scream.
I hate my boss' mother.
Seriously I do. I hate her with a capital "F". I hate everything about her, from the cheap fake fur she wears, to the salmon smelling perfume/body odor that she has permeating from her over sized pores, that ooze olive oil by the quart. I hate that if you do one thing wrong, the woman takes written notes to insure her son knows about your wrong doings. Prison has a way of dealing with women like her...and I'm willing to arrange it.
The other week, she began her usual prying of my personal life and asked if I would be seeing my family for the holidays. Since my father has already died, that would be my mother (one I haven't heard from in nearly 2 years). I answered with a polite "no", which was not satisfactory in her eyes. She continued to push the issue.
"How can you not spend Christmas with your family?"
"I haven't heard from my mother in nearly two years", I answered.
"Oh...Does she have mental problems?"
***blank stare***
Now I normally would have just answered a polite "No", but I felt this was letting the woman off too easily after what I consider to be a complete insult. This woman deserved to pay, and I was going to be the bill collector.
I answered, "My mother has always been poor being a starving artist. To make extra money, she decided to do a job for a friend of her 8th husband. Miguel set her up to run a shipment of drugs from Mexico to Los Angeles, where she would give them to another dealer. My mother however can be a bit impulsive and decided to take the drugs she was running across the border. Realizing that she wouldn't have the money to pay the dealers, she decided to run away. The last I heard she was living somewhere in Wyoming. We never communicate in the event that I am being watched.
She oddly has not asked about my New Years Plans.
